Nights Filled With Longer Hours
by AMKelley
Summary: It shouldn't surprise Steve anymore that, no matter how many times he comes home after a long day, he should be used to finding Bucky sitting alone in the dark in his living room. *Sexual content, post-canon fix-it, identity issues, hurt/comfort*


It shouldn't surprise Steve anymore that, no matter how many times he comes home after a long day, he should be used to finding Bucky sitting alone in the dark in his living room much like that night Nick Fury had come to warn him with only the neon and moonlight to illuminate his face. But this is different. Steve had moved around a bit because his old apartment held too many memories he'd rather forget, namely his mentor and friend being shot by a ghost who was supposed to be long dead.

But this man isn't dead. Far from it actually, because he's right here in his home as living proof. Steve still isn't sure if he can accept it though, having come to the final conclusion that Bucky had died long ago and now all that's left is a shade of the man he used to love. In some ways, Steve is happy that Bucky had survived but the suffering he had to endure in order to live is not something Steve would wish on anyone. No matter how much he loved Bucky.

Steve stands in the archway where the hall and living room connect, watching Bucky stare forlornly out the window. They don't say anything for the longest time, simply because Steve never knows what to say and Bucky hardly ever speaks on these visits. It's always like this whenever Bucky breaks in, but does it really qualify as breaking in when Bucky knows where Steve hides his key?

It's a long forgotten whisper of a memory to Bucky, mostly just habitual by now, but Steve remembers. Steve knows the true meaning and genesis of why Bucky does it. Steve's hand hovers over the light switch, contemplating this to be his first move for breaking the ice and confirming his existence to Bucky, but the man turns his head slightly to one side as if to acknowledge him. Steve freezes, taking this as a sign before dropping his hand and walking over to where Bucky sits instead.

Bucky turns his head back towards the window as Steve takes a seat next to him, letting his hair fall across his insouciant expression. At first, the closeness was dangerous because Bucky didn't know how to react. He wasn't sure if Steve was a threat or neutral but now that these visits have become routine, the invasion of space is welcomed.

He can see Steve cock his head out the corner of his eye, wanting to speak but having no words to do so. Bucky has a feeling as to what Steve wants to ask him, but his... friend... is hesitant for fear he might offend him. Bucky smirks as his heart begins to swell up at the notion of Steve worrying about upsetting him, but it's not entirely unprejudiced. Bucky supposes he owes Steve an answer to his unsaid question.

"I don't like seeing my reflection in the window," he tells Steve, speaking up for the first time. His voice is low but even enough to suggest neutrality.

"Is that why it's always dark in here?" Steve asks, watching Bucky's jaw clench rhythmically. Bucky only nods in response, clarifying Steve's silent.

"I didn't want to scare you," Bucky whispers, hoping Steve wouldn't hear it but it doesn't go unnoticed.

"You're my friend," Steve justifies. "How could you ever scare me?"

"I'm a monster..."

"You're Bucky..." Steve states as if it wins the argument, creasing his brow line skeptically.

"Bucky..." He echoes with a sigh, shaking his head ruefully and trying to remember everything associated with that name, including Steve. "Bucky protects his friends... He doesn't try to kill the ones he loves..."

"Bucky makes mistakes just like anyone else," Steve protests, the tips of his ears heating up with a rush of adrenaline. "It's not our place to question the severity of the circumstances."

Steve wants to reach out and place a reassuring hand against the side of Bucky's face but his notion falls short as Bucky retreats within himself once again. Bucky spares a short side glance over at Steve, looking away just as fast when he finds the super soldier staring at him longingly. Bucky can feel that icy gaze studying the way his jaw flexes at the slightest murmur of a memory.

Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, Bucky can see that same pair of eyes hooded beneath long lashes and desire. Bucky can remember feeling those lips kissing a path down his abdomen as Steve's nose brushes against him every so often. The memory is so potent that Bucky swears it happened just yesterday even though it happened eons ago, but he supposes that's how it is for him and Steve. They're both just distant memories now. Whispers from a different time.

Still, this is why Bucky was here. These harrowing flashes of forgotten moments between him and Steve had started soon after his trip to the Smithsonian. The guided tour had unhinged something inside of him, flooding his shock-treated brain with memories of Bucky's life. Memories of Brooklyn and metal and needles and Steve, both before and after his procedure.

There has always been bits and pieces here and there, but nothing like this. Nothing that ever suggested Steve and Bucky had been together in a past life. Bucky didn't know how to deal with this epiphany of knowledge bombarding his brain harsher than any shock treatment ever could. He wasn't sure if he could be that person for Steve again. Bucky wasn't if Steve wanted him to be that man for him anymore anyway. Why would he? Steve deserved better. Not someone who could snap at any moment and try to kill him.

He doesn't think Bucky would ever forgive the monster he's become if anything ever happened to Steve at the mercy of his own hands. It ran the risk of pushing Bucky further and further away from him until he faded from his memories entirely. But Steve didn't deserve that either. If anything, Steve deserved to be fought for and not discarded for fear of Bucky losing control.

"Did you love Bucky?" He asks, teetering on the edge of sounding choked up. His throat constricts a little tighter than he'd admit but the way love tasted on his tongue had sent an impulse straight to his heart.

"I've never stopped loving him," Steve replies truthfully, looking right into Bucky's haunted eyes rimmed with restless shadows. Steve swallows at the sight of him, so broken and alone but strong in the sense that he's here. "And I'm sure he still loves me too."

"Maybe..." Bucky begins to say only to have his throat close up at the last second. He takes a deep breath, letting it jaggedly slow as he tries to control the emotions he forgot he had. "Maybe he... I... I need help."

He can see Bucky's adam's apple bob reflexively, noting the way the blue of Bucky's eyes turn a shade darker than normal. Steve blinks anatomically at Bucky for a moment, knowing what the other man was driving at but falling short of all meaning at the same time. Bucky's eyes plead with his, begging in silence for Steve to do something. Anything.

"Help me..." Bucky whispers with cracking sob. "Steve... Please..."

Bucky feels like a dam about to burst from too much pressure and if Steve doesn't move soon, he will. Steve's chest moves shallowly up and down to an uneven cadence and Bucky swears the simple act of Steve breathing alone is enough to drive him up the wall. Images of Steve start to dance across his mind, both from scenes of brutal force struck against each other as well as fragments of ecstasy shared between them. From the lines of Steve's abdomen to the dip of his waist.

Steve scoots closer to where Bucky sits on the couch, moving slow so as not to spook him in case the wrong message was received. Bucky dips his head down marginally as if he's shying away from Steve's attention all of a sudden. His hair hangs down so that it's in his face, obscuring Steve's view of him for a moment before Steve cups a hand underneath his chin, raising it up eye level.

"I don't know what you want me to do," Steve admits, holding Bucky's face and fighting every urge screaming in his body. Steve rests his forehead against Bucky's, letting their breaths mingle between them as he shakes his head with frustration. "Tell me what to do?"

"Help me remember," Bucky murmurs, leaning into Steve's embrace until their lips touch lightly.

The initial touch of lips is almost electric like something is finally clicking between them through the fog of forgetfulness. Bucky brings his hands up, both his real and metal one, to push against Steve's chest, struggling a little as he does to stop the contact. There is a part of him, the part that isn't Bucky, that detests to take part in this intimate act but Bucky clings to the front of Steve's shirt all the same. Bucky refuses to lose against the monster inside him because he knows this is what Bucky wants... Not whatever he's become.

Bucky fists the soft fabric of Steve's shirt, twisting and pulling to get him closer, making him deepen the kiss to where it's no longer sweet and chaste. It's more heated but not exactly rough. There is a gentleness to the way Steve holds Bucky's face still enough to probe his mouth with his tongue. He is hesitant to claim Bucky's mouth, fearing he'd be pushed away, but Bucky is arching and responding accordingly. His body language is still uncertain, pushing and fighting to get out of Steve's embrace, but Steve wraps his arms around Bucky's waist to keep him from shying away.

"It's okay, Bucky," Steve murmurs into Bucky's lips that are still tingling from use. "This is okay."

Bucky nods, panting heavily against Steve until he finally relaxes and releases Steve's shirt. Bucky opens his eyes to see that Steve is already watching him intently, gauging his level of comfort before dipping down to kiss Bucky once more. Bucky returns it without protest from any other parties present, curling his real arm across the width of Steve's shoulders. He keeps his robotic arm by his side, skeptical of the harm it may or may not cause Steve if he squeezes too hard.

For a split second none of this feels right to Bucky, but the familiarity in Steve's body pressing against his is enough to reassure him that this is right and that there is no other way to go about their relationship. Steve brings a hand up to run it through Bucky's overgrown hair, reveling in the feel of it as he smiles against Bucky's mouth, trying to surpress a laugh. They part briefly, leaving Bucky at a momentary loss of breath and words.

"I need you," Bucky whines, shaking his head with disdain. "Please..."

He can't even look Steve in the eyes because he's too confused and scared of his own feelings. The words sound too loud in Steve's ears even when it's whispered in a barely there tone. The admission from Bucky is unexpected but not entirely unwanted. Steve had the notion of taking things one step at a time, building up gradually to the point they were at seventy years ago, but Bucky sounds urgent like his life depends on it. Like he absolutely can't take it anymore, and Steve knows he can't. Because Steve can't take it either.

"I want to remember what it feels like."

Steve is petrified by those words and what they imply, but it doesn't stop him from absolutely agreeing with them. Who would he be to deny Bucky? He's waited far too long for this to say no now and Steve will be damned if he doesn't do exactly what Bucky wants. Steve holds out his hand for Bucky to take, shuddering at the touch of Bucky's battle hardened palm against his own. They stand up together before Steve leads the way to the bedroom.

Steve can feel his heart swelling in his throat and each step seems like a decade until, finally, they make it to the darkened bedroom. Steve's hand automatically goes for the light switch but Bucky stops him by wrapping his metal hand around Steve's wrist. Steve gets the hint. Bucky doesn't want Steve to see him more thoroughly yet, no matter how much Steve says he doesn't care what he looks like, but Steve knows that's not the point. Bucky isn't comfortable with himself yet.

Bucky lets go of Steve's wrist like he's been burned because he realizes now that he touched Steve with his robotic hand. They separate and go to opposite sides of Steve's bed, each shedding their clothes in silence with only the sound of fabric rustling between them. Steve can see the outline of Bucky's naked body illuminated by moonlight creeping through the window as he crawls onto the bed. He follows soon after, making the mattress dip even more from his mass.

They can vaguely make out each other through the darkness, staring into the general area of where their eyes are. Steve reaches out blindly, pressing the palm of his hand against Bucky's collar bone and making him flinch at the nervous touch. He realizes that it's mostly out of habit rather than fear. Bucky can't remember the last time someone has touched him so gently before.

"You can touch me," Steve encourages with a low murmur when he senses Bucky's apprehension towards the act. "You won't hurt me."

Bucky swallows loudly enough for Steve to hear it, licking his dry lips precariously before complying to Steve's request. His human hand comes to rest over the part where Steve's heart is beating madly for him, dropping his eyes down in a slight frown as he realizes this. After all he's done to Steve, the super soldier still loves him with every cell in his being and that breaks Bucky's heart. He doesn't feel good enough for Steve and even if he was at one time, Bucky fears he will never be again.

But his hand roams along the contours of Steve's chest, mapping out each line with rough fingertips and cataloguing everything he feels and hears as he does for later reference. Bucky can feel the scars from Steve's gunshot wounds that haven't fully healed over yet even with his fast metabolism. The raised areas of skin are enough to make Bucky's stomach twist with guilt. Steve grabs Bucky's hand gently, stopping him in his trek.

"Don't think of those things," Steve says, not having to read Bucky's mind to know what he's thinking. It's painfully obvious what he's thinking about. "They aren't important."

Bucky wants to protest but Steve is cupping his face and brushing strands of hair out of the way to kiss him softly. Bucky all but melts under his touch, letting Steve lay him down against the plush mattress. The knots in Bucky's back pop, making him moan mildly with elation. He hasn't slept on a real mattress in a long time, let alone sleep. The only rest he gets is when those scientists lose interest in him and put him on ice until they need the Winter Soldier again.

Steve settles between his legs, hovering over Bucky just enough to where they aren't touching just yet. Steve drops down on his elbows, lowering down over Bucky so he can kiss along his body. He kisses along Bucky's collar bone and his neck and even the junction where skin meets metal. Steve can feel Bucky tense at this, uncertain if he wants Steve to feel that part of him, but having no say in the matter when Steve does it again.

Bucky bites his bottom lip, squirming when Steve starts to kiss and nip a trail down his abdomen. Bucky's body flexes and jerks as if trying to sink away from Steve's touch but arching up all the same for more of it. He can feel Steve grin against his abdomen every so often at this little quirk and Bucky realizes that it's a mannerism he's always had. It comes fluttering back to him as Steve goes lower and lower down the length of him.

Steve stops just above Bucky's groin, taking a detour to kiss his hip bones tenderly. Bucky stares off into the darkness of the room, watching shadows dance across the ceiling as he twitches under Steve's lips. Bucky can't help the way he reacts to Steve's attention, gasping uncontrollably as he becomes more and more aroused. He almost feels ashamed of himself but Steve is there with reassuring kisses and gentle caresses him feel loved and wanted.

Bucky feels like he's on the verge of crying as a hailstorm of memories and images come crashing back into him. Loving strokes of affection, tender kisses against the nape of his neck, and the completion of being fully claimed as someone's lover. They make Bucky sob weakly, making Steve stop in his affections to see if Bucky is alright.

"What's wrong?" Steve inquires belatedly, worrying that he's harmed Bucky in some way. "Am I doing something you don't like?"

"No," Bucky sniffles, suppressing his emotions so he can speak clearly enough. "I just- I need to feel you. I need to know."

Steve nods twice even though he knows Bucky can't see it, perhaps it's more for himself so he can shake some sense into what those words mean. Steve sits back, leaving the bed momentarily to rummage around in the nightstand until coming back to the warmth of Bucky. It's not like Steve had been holding his breath for this particular moment but he kept the small tube of liquid mostly for personal use on himself rather than for a partner. Maybe somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Steve was waiting for this.

Steve snaps open the bottle, causing Bucky to flinch at the sound and send shivers down his spine. Bucky knew what sex was and he knew what when men did with each other, but what he wanted to know were the feelings associated with each person and experience. Bucky needed to know how he felt during intimacy with Steve. He needed to remember.

Bucky was taken out of his musings when he felt Steve press fingers against him. He jumps at the touch to such a sensitive area but grounds himself into the mattress. He needs to relax. Steve won't hurt him. Steve bends down to kiss Bucky's inner thighs, soothing his lover as much as he can before pressing into him with two fingers. Bucky gasps at the initial breaching, falling breathless when Steve curls his fingers.

Bucky makes a few choked up little noises, forgetting how to breath as he's kissed and worked over gently by Steve. Somehow Steve's feather light kisses and short gentle thrusts distract him from the discomfort he would be experiencing if it were anyone else but Steve. Steve twists his slick fingers in and out of his lover, using his free hand to avidly stroke Bucky's aroused organ. This made Bucky moan even more and squirm further into the sheets, causing them to go further into disarray.

Steve adds a third finger to loosen Bucky up more, hoping that it will be enough to ease his way. The last thing Steve wants is to hurt Bucky during this moment of trust and intimacy. The stroking of his hand around Bucky's cock proves to be a good distraction and Bucky never once flinches or pushes him away. He has Bucky mewling and begging for more by the time he slips his fingers out of him.

The super soldier crawls up the length of Bucky's body until he rests between his thighs, so close and so far all at the same time. Steve's erection accidentally presses against Bucky's now slick entrance, sending a unified shudder through both of them.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks Bucky, giving him one last chance to change his mind.

Bucky hesitates for a moment too long, leading Steve to believe that he does want to stop, but Bucky shifts downward to arch into Steve's groin.

"Yes. I'm sure."

No more words are exchanged between after that for the longest time as Steve assumes the position, slicking up his cock liberally before lining up to Bucky's body. It takes Steve a few prodding tries from the lack of light, but Bucky reaches down on a whim to help guide him. The sensation of Bucky's hand wrapped securely around his cock is for Steve to lose his composure entirely.

There is a momentary lapse in resistance as Steve pushes forward into Bucky, attempting tenderness as best he can to accommodate Bucky's comfort. Steve slides in all the way with some effort until his pelvis is flush against Bucky's rear end. Bucky calls out, unable to take this sort of pain, but it isn't all physical. Bucky has been trained to take punishment and a thorough beating, but none of those scientists could've prepared him for this.

It wasn't Steve's invasion that hurt him, though there was a dull pain, but more so of the memories connected to this act of total surrender to another human being. Bucky tangled his human and robotic hand into the sheets, yanking and wringing them until the fabric started to tear at the images that came flooding back to him. Scenes of primal ravishment as well as scenes of tender love making. Steve is capable of giving him both of these, but chooses to go for the latter instead.

It's in this moment of Steve thrusting slowly into him that he realizes that maybe he is capable of being Bucky after all, and not the thing living inside him. Bucky doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the pad of Steve's thumb wiping away his tears. Steve had attempted to voice his concern but he knew Bucky was crying from pain... At least, not from pain in the physical sense of things.

Bucky lets go of all his previous hang-ups, including his apprehension of touching Steve with his metal hand, and throws his arms around his lover's neck, clinging to him as if it's the end of the world. He still sobs and cries even further into their love making but it's alright, because Bucky can feel the droplets slide down his neck as Steve buries his face there to mask the fact that he's crying as well. The metal of Bucky's arm is cold and foreign but considering it's attached to Bucky makes it more bearable for Steve.

They move together in way that is arguably pedestrian but ultimately familiar in the sense that they just seem to click, falling into old habits that they had almost forgotten about. It feels seventy years in the past again, like Bucky and Steve never fell asleep and were back in Brooklyn. They all but forget that this isn't the case, however, as they drift off into the illusion that nothing has changed.

Steve is thrusting gently into Bucky's body, panting into his ear as he attempts to conceal the sobs with soft moans and sweet endearments. Bucky is hanging onto Steve securely, wrapping his legs around Steve's waist and whimpering with pleasure while his lover lights up the nerves inside of him. Bucky gasps one last time before he lets go of everything tying him down and seemingly slips into a reminiscence of their past life.

"I love you, James."

The words echoed around the recesses of Bucky's mind, sending him reeling with emotion and ecstasy as he finds completion in Steve's embrace. And it feels right. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, breaking his tears away harshly from their ducts to roll down his face and collect in the strands of his long hair instead. Steve follows soon after with the same result, holding Bucky a little while longer before pulling out altogether.

They come careening back to the cruel reality of their predicament, remembering that things have changed and that it isn't 1945 anymore, but it's not enough to tear them apart. Not anymore. It's the first time, in a long time, that Bucky feels remotely content but there is an underlining sadness to it. Bucky remembers himself and Steve a whole lot better now but he feels somewhat empty, like something was lost in the process.

"Does it always hurt so much?" Bucky asks distantly into the darkness, blinking away excess tears as he clings to Steve. "Remembering?"

"I suppose it does for everyone," Steve replies honestly, holding Bucky a little tighter because he knows his lover needs it now more than ever. "In different ways. For better or for worse. But there's nothing we can do to prevent that inevitability. All we can do is move on. Together."

In the end, Bucky figures he's okay with that because the only thing that hurts more than remembering, is forgetting.


End file.
